Chasing Shadows

by Ashley Townsend

  Queen Meredith gave her hand a quick squeeze of gratitude. She sniffed back tears, and her smile was wobbly. “Thank you, child.”

  Sarah pulled back, thinking carefully on her next words before speaking. “I didn’t arrive until after he had passed,” she said slowly, with the right amount of curiosity in her tone. She felt Damien give her palm a warning squeeze, having forgotten he still held her other hand. Swallowing back the niggling guilt, she hedged, “But if you don’t mind my asking, how, exactly, did it happen?”

  “Of course I do not mind.” The woman stiffened her spine, and it looked like it was meant to give her courage, though Sarah heard the underlying waver in her voice. “It feels strange to speak of it, since his passing is common knowledge here. But several months past, after supper one evening, the king became ill. The physician tried everything—medicine, experimental herbs. We became so desperate that he even tried leeches.” Sarah bit back a grimace, and the queen angled her chin into the air. The candles situated on the chandelier reflected off the tears glittering in her eyes. “But nothing produced results, and my husband—well, he never recovered, as well you know.”

  “And it didn’t seem odd to you?” The words were out of her mouth before she could take them back. Damien let go of her hand and murmured her name at his plate, cautioning her. She was reminded of their conversation in the woods, his warning that she not tell anyone about her theory that the king had been murdered. But now she had another reason to solve the king’s murder, besides bringing Cadius to justice: She wanted the queen to have the answers to the questions Sarah saw behind her haunted brown eyes.

  “How do you mean ‘odd’?” the queen asked, her gaze flickering to her son momentarily, but his glazed expression was on his advisor seated beside him. The queen leaned toward her younger guest almost involuntarily.

  Heedless of Damien’s warning, Sarah said quietly, “I have heard a little of what’s gone on for the past few months, and it just seemed strange how it all happened. A mystery illness claims the life of a perfectly healthy king? It just seemed peculiar.”

  The queen was shaking her head distractedly. “When the illness progressed, I was hardly allowed to see him, but nothing seemed unusual the times that I went to him. It is hardly uncommon for someone to become unexpectedly ill in this climate.”

  Sarah lowered her voice an octave. “And the fact that you were kept from him didn’t strike you as suspicious?”

  “The physician feared contagion,” the older woman murmured, though she sounded less sure. Sarah, noticing her chance, took advantage of the woman’s momentary suspicion, though she tried to keep the eagerness out of her voice.

  “Were you able to see him at all after awhile?”

  “In the latter months, I had to force my way into the room or have one of the servants smuggle me in.” Her throat worked. “But the illness ravaged his body quickly towards the end, and Josiah was nearly incoherent the times I did manage to visit.”

  Sarah was about to throw another question at her when she saw the tears pricking the queen’s vision, and she felt a stab of remorse. Was she really so intent on solving this thing that she couldn’t see, or was too wrapped up to care, that her inquiries were upsetting the widow, a woman who clearly had a heart for her people? The woman’s husband had died, leaving her the kingdom to manage until her son took over—that same son who was drowning his sorrows in drink and who looked as drained and lifeless as his dead father.

  Looking the queen in the eyes, Sarah whispered, “I’m sorry for prying.”

  Shaking her head lightly, the queen sniffed and offered her a tiny smile. “No apologies. It’s common knowledge that I continued to make visits to my husband against the physician’s counsel and that of the king’s advisor. Since I came into this life over two decades past, I have been instructed and primped and prepared, but I still struggle with cowing to certain rules and conventions.”

  Sarah cocked her head curiously and shifted a little in her seat to better face her. “I thought you would have been raised to be a queen since you were born.”

  She grinned a little. “You truly are not from here. It was my elder sister, not I, who was raised to take over the throne. You see, Ridlan, the province where we lived, desired to make an alliance with Serimone, and my sister was the one coached from birth to rule.”

  “She was supposed to marry the king?” Sarah asked incredulously.

  Meredith nodded in the affirmative. “Alexis and the king were married on her sixteenth birthday and remained that way for many years until she died, shortly after Adrian was born.”

  Sarah stared unseeing at her full plate, processing this surprising bit of information. She shot a quick glance at the prince before turning her gaze to the lady beside her. “How did she die?”

  “She caught an illness when Adrian was two months old.” Her gaze seemed far away, and her voice softened in remembrance. “There was nothing to be done, even with her determination and fiery spirit.”

  The pieces clicked together in Sarah’s mind. “And then you married the king to keep the alliance intact?” She tried to keep her tone curious, but her mind was racing.

  Meredith nodded slowly. “Almost immediately.” A faint smile curved her painted lips. “We were very different at first—I, a young woman not yet twenty who wanted to experience life, and the king, a ruler only a little younger than my own father, who already had a son and was mourning the loss of my sister.”

  “Sounds like a match made in heaven,” Sarah remarked in quiet humor.

  The queen gave a light laugh, covering her mouth delicately with her pale hand. “It was a rocky start, yes, but we soon fell in love, and I raised Adrian as my own.”

  “You must miss Alexis,” Sarah remarked softly, surprised when the queen gave a delicate laugh.

  “Yes, but I like to imagine that she continues to stir up trouble like always.” Her eyes softened. “And fond remembrance of her is never far from my thoughts. I still have a box of Alexis’s old things stored in her former bedchambers, though I have never allowed myself to look inside,” she admitted.

  Sarah felt eyes on them, and she glanced up to find both the prince and Cadius watching them.

  “I hope my sister-in-law is not boring you with an accounting of Serimone’s history,” Cadius said with a pinched smile that Sarah imagined was laced with condescension. She suspected he had been handsome in his younger years, but his features had hardened through the decades and made him appear cold and intimidating.

  The queen shifted uneasily beneath his gaze, and then she quickly straightened her back, taking on a mask of indifference. “No, brother, we were—”

  “Discussing the way she and the king met,” Sarah jumped in. She leaned forward, hoping the accusation wasn’t apparent in her eyes as she watched Cadius for his reaction to her next words. She feigned innocent curiosity, though her temple was throbbing at the anxiety coursing through her veins. “I was also asking her about the circumstances surrounding the king’s death. It struck me as odd the way he died.” She could almost heard Damien swallow beside her as his body tensed.

  Cadius steepled his fingers, resting his hands on the table as he leaned, almost imperceptibly, toward her. She sensed the movement was meant to intimidate her, and she had to force herself not to pull back instinctively or reveal the sudden spark of trepidation she felt. “My brother’s passing was very difficult for us all,” he said, his voice smooth and diplomatic. “Why would a foreigner show such interest in his death?”

  “Inquisition is woman’s greatest virtue,” the prince threw in, his words heavy. He smiled lazily at Sarah, and she wondered if anyone else had noticed that he’d had a little too much wine.

  Sarah swallowed convulsively when she looked back at Cadius, barely maintaining eye contact with his piercing gaze. “I guess I’m just naturally curious.” Her voice squeaked on the end. She tried to shrug innocently, a dumb smile on her lips as she backed down. Her pulse thumped rapidly as
Cadius’ calculated gaze weighed the truth of her statement. It appeared he thought curiosity more a fault than a virtue.

  Her smile faded, and she shrank back a little. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset anyone.”

  “What an inquisitive companion you’ve found in your company,” Cadius observed, his thin lips barely curving in a smile of amusement as he swung his stormy eyes to Damien. There was something dangerous in his gaze, and his smile reeked of court-trained charm. “How delightful to discover one so free with her thoughts?” His lowly spoken compliment came out sounding more like a question. A test, Sarah realized. She looked up at Damien, gut twisting.

  “Yes.” He smiled at her, but it looked strained. When he turned back to Cadius, his eyes changed, flickering with an emotion Sarah couldn’t decipher. “She is very smart, as well.”

  Cadius leaned back against his chair, looking faintly pleased, though his eyes remained narrowed. He raised his glass and said lowly, “How fortunate for the pair of you.”

  ~Chapter 31~

  The rest of the evening dragged on painfully. Sarah picked at her plate, but her appetite was lost. The prince had excused himself an hour ago after Cadius whispered a few brief words to him. She could only assume he had told his nephew to leave the public eye before anyone else noticed that their future king was drowning his torment in drink. The queen was a gem and kept Sarah engaged in conversation throughout the meal, though it was apparent that she was in need of distraction as much as Sarah.

  Damien offered little conversation, appearing distracted for most of the evening. His eyes occasionally flickered to Cadius, who made a point of avoiding his gaze and remained otherwise occupied by discussing politics with the man beside him.

  Sarah felt bad about ruining the perfect evening Damien had imagined, but she’d had to take advantage of her first and possibly only encounter with Cadius.

  For all the good it had done.

  Her suspicions were increased after speaking with him—the way he never referred to the king by his title and seemed immediately defensive and suspicious—but all she had were her instincts and conjectures. What did you expect, Matthews? For a cold-hearted murderer to confess his crime to a freshman? She realized the absurdity of it now, but she had done all she could to get a rise from him. Aside from asking him outright if he had killed his brother, what else could she have done?

  Her shoulders sagged in disappointment. She had failed yet again.

  At last, Damien rose and gave his excuses to the queen and Cadius, dipping his head to each of them in turn. Sarah nearly jumped from her seat in her eagerness to be away from the gray-haired man’s cold eyes.

  Knowing it was expected, she curtsied to the queen. “It was a pleasure, my lady.”

  Meredith smiled with genuine warmth. “The pleasure is all mine.” She lowered her voice. “And you have my gratitude for the offer of your company this evening. Perhaps we can take a stroll about the castle during the week.” Sarah nodded. The queen looked like she wanted to say more, but then her eyes flickered to Cadius and quickly away. Her mouth closed.

  “I am certain we will meet again, milady.” The words came out smoothly. Sarah’s throat constricted as she turned to acknowledge the man. Cadius stared back at her, the corner of his mouth tightened in what she imagined was supposed to be a congenial smile, but she thought she detected an underlying threat. Maybe she was being paranoid, looking for ghosts where there were none.

  With a quick nod, Sarah allowed herself to be escorted from the room. The doors closed behind them, but Damien didn’t slow until they were well into the corridor. He pulled her suddenly into a darkened room, and she gasped. He gripped her upper arms, and she could barely make out the shake of his head in the faint light that managed to lessen the total darkness of the room.

  “I told you to drop this,” Damien said, his voice a harsh whisper.

  “I just—”

  “And what do you do?” he went on as though she hadn’t spoken. “You confront the man you’re accusing of murder, and murder of the king. That isn’t just a hanging offense, Sarah. A man can be strung up and left on a cross for days for committing such a crime against the kingdom.” Damien made a sound in his throat and released her. She heard him stride across the room and lost sight of him before he paced back.

  “What were you thinking?” he whispered. He no longer sounded angry, but rather distraught with worry.

  “I’m—I’m sorry.” Sarah swallowed guiltily, wanting to explain her actions. “It was the only way I could think of to catch his reaction. What should I have done?”

  He shook his head slowly, and then a hand came up to gently stroke her cheek. “I’ve lost so much, and I can’t . . .” His voice faded.

  Sarah knew that if a near stranger had pulled her into an abandoned room and was touching her as Damien was, she would have started screaming and clawing her way out of there. But the truth was Damien was not like other men, and she felt safe with him.

  And the rest of the truth was that the feel of his fingers on her skin had her rooted to the spot.

  Her lower lip drooped in surprise. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she whispered, voice quavering. Her windpipe didn’t seem to be working properly.

  Damien exhaled. His thumb ran over her cheekbone. “I know,” he murmured. “But you don’t understand these people like I do. Politics, money, position—it changes you, makes you paranoid. If a suspicious person feels threatened, they can become like a cornered animal, and an animal in the midst of panic can only react instinctively. They attack, Sarah; it’s all they know to do.”

  She hadn’t realized it would upset him so much, though if she was being honest, she hadn’t given his feelings a second thought.

  Shoulders sagging, she whispered, “I’m sorry.” She seemed to be saying that a lot today. “My intent was to find the truth.”

  “At the cost of your life?”

  Sarah searched the darkness for his face, but the light from the hall didn’t reach this corner of the room. “You seem certain that my life’s in danger.”

  “Men like my father—” He seemed to struggled for words. “I’ve seen how a man driven by lust—for power or otherwise—reacts when he feels vulnerable, when those things he holds most dear are in danger. I don’t want you to end up like that.”

  “What? A man driven by lust?” she asked, defensively striving for humor. But her knees were shaking at what he implied.

  Damien’s hand retracted from her cheek. “A victim,” he answered grimly.

  She swallowed, knowing he sensed real danger. She knew his paranoia was well founded, if the cold looks Cadius had given her during supper were any indication.

  “I will be more careful,” she promised. “I can’t drop this completely, but you have my word that I will avoid confrontation with Cadius at all costs. I’ll keep out of his hair.”

  She heard him sigh. “I have a feeling that’s all I’m going to get from you. Perhaps I’d be disappointed if you acquiesced so easily.” He sounded vaguely amused. Reaching out, he took her arm and guided her from the room. She blinked against the torchlight and saw a man hurrying down the hall towards them.

  “Timmons,” Damien greeted, though his voice was tinged with wariness.

  The thin man’s gaze shifted nervously between the two of them. “May I speak with you, my lord?”

  “Sarah,” Damien began slowly.

  Sensing the newcomer’s urgency, she shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I can get to my room just fine.”

  Damien lifted her hand and quickly kissed the back of it. She felt a little thrill shoot up her arm. “Thank you. I shall look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

  She smiled at the two men and then made her way down the corridor alone. She heard the shuffling of boots behind her and glanced back just as Damien and the mystery man stepped into one of the side rooms.

  “What news?” Damien’s whisper echoed off the stone walls and reached her ears. She fo
rced her feet to keep moving, but she froze in place at the man’s words.

  “Two bodies were discovered in the river about an hour ago, sir—washed up on the banks sixty yards apart. A man and a woman.”

  Damien cursed. “Do they suspect foul play?”

  Sarah realized she was still eavesdropping, but she felt rooted to the spot. Two more people were dead? It couldn’t be connected . . . could it? Pressing her back against the wall, she strained her ears to hear the man’s faint response.

  “I didn’t get a good look at the bodies because the guards were on patrol and discovered them quick enough. But from what I saw, it looked like a tumble over the falls was what killed them, but it’s too hard to be sure at this point.” The man hesitated. “I thought you should be the first to know, sir.”

  Something in Timmons’ voice seemed to strike a nerve in Damien. “Have they identified the man?”

  “As I said, I didn’t get a good look before the patrol took the bodies back here for identification. They want you to identify the man for them, sir.”

  “And the woman?” Damien asked, sounding eager and wary.

  “Can’t say for sure,” came the mumbled reply. “But I’m almost positive the girl was one of them tramps down on Bowler Street. Looks like the two lovers took a fatal fall.” Their voices dropped to low murmurs, and Sarah only managed to catch snippets of their hushed conversation.

  Her mind wandered distractedly. Something the man had said caught her attention, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Was Timmons an informant? Sarah had watched enough shows to know that it was common for informants and spies to apprise their masters of seedy events. But why the rush to let Damien know about a prostitute and a man falling off a waterfall? She wondered if it was the same waterfall Will had shown her earlier.